


No Matter What

by kailaris_rites_223



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: (For once I have relevant tags), (It's a reincarnation au), (Look), (That aren't so snarky), (because I want them to that's why), (because dammit these two deserve a happy ending), (kinda), (sorta) - Freeform, (what do you expect?), (you know who's who though), (you'll see what i mean), Angst with a Happy Ending, Arthur Pendragon Returns (Merlin), Arthur and Morgana also do fencing, Arthur plays rugby, Bi Merlin, Canon Compliant, Everyone besides Merlin is reincarnated, Going Through Life, Internal Transphobia, M/M, Magic still exists, Merlin being supportive, Minor Gwaine/Percival, Minor Leon/Morgana, Past Gwen/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Reincarnation, Slight name changes to background characters, Supportive Partners, Trans Arthur, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, Uther is a dick, and football, bi arthur, mentions of transphobia, minor Gwen/Lancelot - Freeform, supportive friends, trans arthur pendragon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-11
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-10-25 22:41:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17734010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kailaris_rites_223/pseuds/kailaris_rites_223
Summary: "Merlin has walked the earth for a lot longer than he’d like to admit. Just waiting for Arthur’s return that is inevitable. At least, according to that asshole of a dragon, Kilgarrah. He just never expected Arthur’s return to be the way that it was."This is the story of a partner seeing their lover truly discover themselves in their late 20s, and loving them unconditionally and being supportive every step of the way. This is just with a Merthur spin on it.





	No Matter What

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so, here's the thing: the idea of a trans male Arthur Pendragon came into my mind and I worked it until something actually formed into a story. This is the longest story I've ever written by myself, e v e r, and you'd think it would've gone into something that might actually be published, but nope! Here I am, making fanfics.
> 
> But for real, this is kinda really heavy. Being nonbinary, my dysphoria is definitely not as severe as Arthur's in this story. But the point of this story isn't to focus on the dysphoria. No, as I said before, it's more so to focus on the idea of a partner seeing their lover truly discover themselves in their late 20s, and loving them unconditionally and being supportive every step of the way. Just with a Merthur spin.
> 
> That being said, here is the list of Trigger Warnings to help keep yourself safe:  
> •Unintentional misgendering and dead-naming of a character for the good first half of the story, due to the fact that the story is not from the trans character's point of view and even then, the trans character figures they are trans in their late 20s and this story starts with them in their early 20s  
> •Purposeful isolation due to extreme dysphoria, but the reason is unknown to the character whose perspective this story is in  
> •Destruction of personal property, as well as physical harm due to punching a mirror  
> •Panic attack due to fear of coming out as trans due to extreme internal transphobia  
> •Transphobia and biphobia from a parent mentioned, though not explicit stated by said parent  
> •Transphobia from coworkers mentioned, though not explicitly stated
> 
> Now, if you are still here even after all those, I really hope you do enjoy the story. I've put a lot of effort into this, and I, personally, really like how the results are.

Merlin has walked the earth for a lot longer than he’d like to admit. Just waiting for Arthur’s return that is inevitable. At least, according to that asshole of a dragon, Kilgarrah. He just never expected Arthur’s return to be the way that it was. When Merlin thought of Arthur’s return, he thought of a world in chaos, where Arthur rises from the waters of Lake Avalon, looking like the mighty king that the legends like to proclaim he is. When World War Two occurred, that was the closest Merlin felt to the possibility of Arthur coming back. But Merlin knew in his bones that he never did.

Now, here he is at Cambridge University looking 21 again—and oh gods, does it feel so nice to not have aching joints, you’d think magic would’ve prevented him from such aching joints in his old age—feeling like the whole world is shifting underneath his feet. Sure, he had felt it when Arthur had come back into the world; he had stood along the shores of Lake Avalon for days, incredibly confused when he saw no sign of Arthur. When he talked to some of the Sidhe, they told him that Arthur was out in the world as a new being; it took awhile for Merlin to understand they meant reincarnation. And now, staring out at the rugby field, Merlin feels like he can’t breathe.

He sees the name on the back of the jersey: “Pendragon” in Cambridge Blue, the number 11 underneath it. Merlin has to admit that the green-hued blue color looks wrong considering the Pendragon colors were always bright gold and vibrant red. But that’s not the thing that makes Merlin feel like everything around him is spinning and that the entire world is slipping underneath his feet. No, Merlin couldn’t care what color Arthur’s jersey could be; anything looks good with that bright blond hair and vibrant blue eyes of his, as well as the broad shoulders he has.

The difference is that Arthur...isn’t Arthur. Merlin hears a muted, “nice work Isabelle!” from a voice that sounds too much like Leon’s, and he sees the girl—the one with Arthur’s blonde hair and blue eyes and those nice shoulders of hers that are only a bit smaller than Arthur’s were—who wears the “Pendragon” jersey give a nod. He watches her down the water bottle before wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, her face shiny with sweat. He stares, taking in her features that are Arthur’s but aren’t. She has a strong jawline, but it’s softer, much like how Morgana’s jawline was. Merlin doesn’t spend too long staring at her lips, because there lies the path of thoughts that Merlin has not thought about in over a millennium.

He notices when she walks back towards the field is that she’s tall. Like, the same height as Arthur was. She’s the same height as several of the other rugby players, and when Merlin gives the team a good look over, he feels his heart beat faster as he recognizes the familiar faces of his long-dead friends. He sees Leon place his hand on her shoulder and smile at her, he sees Percival talking with Lancelot, his arm around Gwaine’s waist as Gwaine leans against him. When the blonde girl—Isabelle, he heard Leon call her Isabelle—walks by, Gwaine quickly strikes, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and pulling her down. He sees her laugh, bright and vibrant as she makes her way out of the grip.

Merlin can’t seem to look away. They’re all here. Even if Arthur is different—Isabelle—they’re all here. They’re all alive and happy, and Merlin thinks that the thing that would tie it all together would be if Gwen and Morgana were here. And as if the universe heard him, he then sees Gwen and Morgana together, grinning brightly at the group. And Merlin realizes that, whatever comes their way, he knows everything in the end will be alright.

It actually takes a few weeks after that first glimpse of them all for Merlin to finally meet Isabelle. Unsurprisingly, it’s by complete accident, as they collide in the library, their books all scattered across the floor.

_“Watch where you’re going!” comes the snap from her, voice low and tone filled with annoyance before she crouches down to gather her books. Merlin stares for a moment, seeing the long blonde hair pulled back into a tight ponytail. She stops, looking up at him with her eyes narrowed. “Well, don’t just stand there like an idiot! Pick up your fucking books!”_

_And with that, he’s in action, crouching down to pick up his textbooks. He decided to major in computer engineering, since it was basically the only thing he didn’t already know by heart basically. He couldn’t help but babble out, “I’m a transfer, sorry, fucking hell, let me get that for you”. When their hands touch, Merlin swallows as he knows for certain it’s her—he feels it like a rush of electricity rushing through the marrow of his bones._

_He notices she has a few rings on her fingers—just like Arthur always did—before she pulls her hand back and looks at him. And the look she gives him is a calculating one, like the one Arthur had whenever he had been planning out a battle strategy. She then slowly continues to pick up her books, standing up to her full height. Merlin looks up at her, taking note of her jeans, her sweater, and the red scarf around her neck, before he finally finishes picking up his books and standing to his feet._

_“Sorry about that, my mother always said I was clumsy.” He shifted all his books underneath his arm, extending his hand out to her. “Name’s Merlin. Merlin Emrys.”_

_He watches her eyebrows raise in shock before she states, “you’ve got to be shitting me.” Her voice has a tone of humorous disbelief, and Merlin really can’t blame her. He’s trying to hold back his own laughter. “That can’t be your real name. I don’t believe it. Show me your ID as proof.”_

_Merlin raised an eyebrow, deciding to play along with this game. “Well, I’ll show you my ID if you give me your name.” The way he said it, however, came out a lot flirtier than he intended, if the shock on her face and the burning of his cheeks were anything to go by._

_She gave a hum, giving him a once over—making his ears burn along with his cheeks now—before giving a nod. “Cheeky, I like it. Isabelle Pendragon. If you call me Izzy, I will kick your ass. Now, let me see the proof.”_

_Merlin stuck his hand in his back pocket, acting alarmed before checking his computer bag. He gave a grumble, whispering a spell, before pulling out his wallet. And there, on the front, was his student ID card that stated: Merlin Emrys. Her blue eyes went wide before just gave a shocked laugh, looking back at him._

_“Huh, you really are some unfortunate bastard, aren’t ya?” She said this in a murmur, but Merlin heard it. He gave a scoff of mock offense._

_“Well damn, that’s one way to treat a guy.” The breathy chuckle she gave created a warm feeling in his stomach._

_“Well, you did run into me.” She placed a hand on her slim hip, quiet for a moment before stating, “would you mind being my study partner? My usual partner is off macking with my sister.” She scrunched up her face at the idea, and Merlin had to give a chuckle._

_“Sure, I’d love to. I’m actually pretty damn good at history, if I do say so myself.”_

Their friendship only developed from there. After that day, Merlin and Arthur—Isabelle at the time—were attached at the hip. Merlin was introduced—well, for him it was reintroduced—to all of her friends, who quickly became his friends. Their names were pretty much the same; Guinevere was Gwenneth, but still called “Gwen”. Morgana was now just “Morgan”. Leon was a simple “Leo”, and Percival was a simple “Percy”. Lancelot was just “Lance”, and Gwaine for some reason was “Gavin”. He figured out that Isabelle was the only single one in the group, as Leo and Morgan were a couple; as were Lance and Gwen and Gavin and Percy. When Merlin had mentioned this topic, Isabelle had groaned, shoving his shoulder.

“Don’t be such a dickhead,” she mumbled while the others laughed. Gavin had then gone on about her failed relationships, including the time she made out with Leon when she was drunk in secondary school. He learned about her girlfriends—and did that come as a surprise to Merlin, that Isabelle wasn’t straight—and how each had spectacularly failed. He heard how Gwen and Isabelle had tried dating but both just felt better as friends.

When asked about himself, Merlin gave a shrug. “I don’t really care.” And that was the closest thing to the truth. For a long while, Merlin hadn’t really known his sexuality. He knew that he liked girls—his affection for Freya had been _too_ real, and he had married once or twice in the past centuries. But he also knew he preferred men, as he remembered Lancelot’s smiles and Gwaine’s flirting and _Arthur_ , as well as just the other men that came and went in Merlin’s life. He remembered Bill, and gods had he been _magnificent_ , and he remembered Oscar, who had been _such_ a pleasure. But there hadn’t been a word for his sexuality for a long while, so he had just settled for not knowing a name to the feelings he had. “Bisexual” would probably fit him best, but it just seemed too new for him to really feel like he could claim it; that’s what happened when you had lived for over a millennium.

They had taken that answer as acceptable enough, and continued their lives through college. They all were buried under papers and exams—yes, even Merlin, since computer engineering was so fucking new he didn’t know enough about it to just bullshit his way through the classes—as well as sports for most of them. Merlin learned that Isabelle not only was a star on the rugby team, but on the football team as well. He also learned that she and Morgan had done fencing since they were little, and Merlin had only _said_ in a joking tone that it was mildly frightening to imagine Morgan holding a sword. She had swatted at his shoulder and laughed with him, and that had been the end of that conversation, thankfully.

The thing about Merlin with Isabelle was that she always seemed right on the edge of looking like she remembered.

There was this air around them that even strangers could pick up on; any time they’re out at a café, always getting asked if they’re a couple, or whenever they’re at a pub, a guy is bothering Isabelle until Merlin steps up to ask if anything’s wrong, and the guy suddenly apologizes saying something along the lines of “I didn’t know she was taken”. Which, if Merlin has anything to say, is such a bullshit answer because Isabelle’s consent is what truly matters in the end; plus, Merlin knows that if she really needs to, she could kick most of those guys’ asses if they bothered her too much.

But it wasn’t just that either; there were times where Isabelle would look at him for a long while, and Merlin wondered if maybe she remembered. There’d be times when Merlin would let it slip that she was a “dollop-head” or a “clotpole”—those words were just so fundamentally Arthur Pendragon for Merlin, and she is the reincarnation of him—and she’d pause whatever she was doing and stare at him long and hard. There were times when Merlin did something somewhat stupid, and she’d say, “really _Mer_ lin”, her accent sounding more regal than before. It was just the little things, but to Merlin, they meant the world.

Around the campus, people had started to associate them with each other. Merlin once overheard two girls talking in the library one day, and it had been a rather interesting conversation.

_“Oh damn,” came a voice that was a bit louder than one would expect from a library. Merlin lifted his head for a moment from his laptop—the coding homework he had was killing him—to see two girls sitting together at a table a bit off to the right._

_He watched a girl with brown hair smack her friend’s arm, her face flushing a bit. “_ Shut up! _” she hissed out, and Merlin bit his lip as he heard the other giggle, before looking back at his homework._

 _“You were right, he_ is _cute.” Merlin felt his cheeks heat up as he heard them. “Why don’t you go talk to him?”_

_He heard the second girl scoff. “Haven’t you heard that he’s practically spoken for?”_

_He could practically hear the first scrunch up her nose. “What the bloody hell does that mean?”_

_“You know that Pendragon girl?”_

_“Oh shit, the one on the rugby and football teams?”_

_“Yeah, well, they’re always together, any time you see them on campus. Didn’t you hear about that? Ya know, ‘Isabelle and Merlin’?”_

_“No? I didn’t? And he’s alone now, so go talk to him!”_

_“I’m not an idiot, look! There’s a bunch of history textbooks next to him_ and _a second bag. I bet you she just went to go get something to eat.”_

_Merlin had to cup his hand over his mouth to keep from laughing; the girl was right, after all, Isabelle had left to go get some food since they had been studying and working on their homework for 4 hours._

_“Well, if you won’t, I will.” And when Merlin heard the screech of a chair being pushed back, he lifted his head a bit more to see the first girl coming to talk him. It was at this time that Isabelle came back._

_“Hey_ Mer _lin,” she stated, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips as she sat down next to him. “Have you gotten anywhere with that coding, or have those big ears of yours been listening to too much juicy library gossip?”_

_Merlin gave a scoff, shoving lightly at her shoulder. “Oh shut it Iz.” That was the one nickname she allowed, and Merlin was the only one who could use it. He then leaned closer to her and whispered, “I’m apparently cute according to those two.” He nodded his head over to where the girl was just standing and staring at them now._

_He watched Isabelle turn her gaze towards the two girls, and when her gaze met the girl who was standing, he watched those eyes grow harsh as she narrowed them, and then watched as the girl was tugged back down in her seat by her friend. Merlin furrowed his eyebrows in confusion at Isabelle, but she acted like nothing happened, opening her textbook and taking out her notebook. As he turned his attention back to coding, he heard the girls speak one more time:_

_“I told you he was already spoken for.”_

Now, not to say that Merlin didn’t meet anybody he thought was attractive while at college. In fact, there were a few blokes here and there that he thought were attractive. It was just always at frat parties or after-game parties that Isabelle dragged him to, and they may have just been one-night stands that occurred when he was drunk. Isabelle always knew when he had come back from one of those one-night stands, as whenever he walked through the door, she raised an eyebrow and said “someone got laid” in a voice that sounded a bit tighter than usual. But if Merlin ever tried to bring it up, she’d blatantly ignore the questions regarding it, so Merlin just ignored it.

Graduating from Cambridge felt like a reward in its own sense. Obviously, Merlin had never had any formal schooling—the closest thing he’d ever had had been Gaius’s teachings—so graduating from college with First Class felt like a major milestone for him. And when Merlin watched Isabelle and the rest of the rugby and football teams win the BUCS Overall Championship, as well as watch her walk down that stage, receiving her First Class History and Politics degree, Merlin was the loudest cheering her on. After the ceremony was finished, Merlin had rushed to find her amongst the see of people there. When he did, he found her surrounded by all their friends, and felt his smile grow wider on his face. And when she finally caught sight of him, he felt his heart beat faster as her smile grew even bigger and she pulled away to rush towards him. When she wrapped her arms around his waist in a tight hug, Merlin almost fell over; this caused them both to laugh, and for Merlin’s stomach to swoop in an achingly familiar way.

_“We did it Merlin! Look at us, we did it!” Her blue eyes were bright, so bright, and he remembered that look; the look Arthur had gotten at the prospect of creating a better Camelot for his people._

_And the next thing he knew, he was leaning down and pulling her close, pressing his lips against hers in a kiss that was long, long overdue. He felt the noise of shock leave her lips as he did this, but soon enough, he felt one hand tighten on his waist and the other move up to tug on his hair. There was whooping and cheering from their group of friends, but at that moment, it didn’t matter; Merlin had Isabelle in his arms, right where he had always wanted her to be._

_When he finally pulled back, she was breathing a bit heavier—as was he—and he noticed that her lips were a bit swollen and a darker shade of pink than they usually were. He had the sudden urge to kiss her again, and was going to go through with it, when he heard someone clearing their throat. Merlin turned his head, and a chill ran through him as he saw the man who had threatened his very existence for years while he was with Arthur back then._

_“Isabelle, care to inform me on whom this young gentleman is?” Uther Pendragon stood there, his suit pressed neatly. The only thing dampening the chill Merlin felt was the proud grin sitting on his usually stoic face._

_“Father, this is Merlin. You know, the one I always talked about over the phone.” That had always been the thing about Isabelle; she never went home during the holidays due to the fact that her father was always on business trips when they came around, so Merlin had never met the man despite knowing Isabelle for 2 years._

_“Ah, yes. The computer engineer.” Merlin blinked in surprise when he heard a tone of approval in the man’s voice. Uther Pendragon had never, in Merlin’s entire service under him, given him even a nod of approval, let alone let it show in his voice. He watched in complete shock as the man extended his hand out to Merlin. “Ulysses Pendragon. I’m Isabelle and Morgan’s father.”_

_Merlin shook the man’s hand, still feeling like it was an out-of-body experience to do so. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Pendragon. Merlin Emrys.”_

_“So I’ve heard.” Uther—and while Merlin has come to associate Arthur as Isabelle and the rest of the more modern names, he would never call Uther “Ulysses”—gave him a warmer smile then. “Congratulations. I saw you got the First Class degree. That is quite an accomplishment.”_

_“Thank you, it took a lot of hard work.” And maybe—just_ maybe _—a hint of magic, but nobody had to know that sometimes Merlin used magic to write some aspects of his papers. It was still damn hard work either way._

_“Well, I was going to take my children to dinner to celebrate. You are welcome to join, as are the rest of your friends.”_

Dinner had been one of the most intimidating moments in Merlin’s entire life, and Merlin had been confronted by the Gestapo in Nazi Germany while he had been hiding several Jewish families inside his home.

During the entire dinner, Uther asked Merlin what his plans were now that he was out of college while Isabelle kept her thigh pressed against Merlin’s, rending all thought process null and void. When Isabelle decided to change the subject, she had grabbed Merlin’s hand on the table and held it in her own, making the words coming out of Merlin’s mouth complete gibberish. Merlin saw and heard the snickers of his friends, and knew that there’d be a lifetime of teasing over this dinner, but all Merlin could focus on the rest of the dinner was Isabelle’s hand in his, her thumb brushing over the back of his hand in a steady rhythm as she talked.

As they left dinner, Merlin realized that now they were out of Cambridge, they’d need a place to stay. He told Isabelle this, and she had laughed at him.

 _“Obviously we’re getting a flat together, you dumbass.” She then smacked his arm gently with her hand. “Sometimes I wonder if you really_ are _an idiot.”_

And it was just like that. The two found a flat together and moved in, and _man_ , did Gavin tease them like no tomorrow over it. But, they moved all their furniture in, and they had their respective rooms; Isabelle had been very adamant about it, since their relationship was still rather new and didn’t have a specific name yet, and she didn’t want it to be ruined by them sharing a room just yet. It was the perfect living situation, in Merlin’s opinion, and things were going perfectly. He was sharing a flat with Isabelle, Morgan was happy, and all of their friends were still alive and well.

His relationship with Isabelle progressed over the years, starting with the tentative kisses here and there, to proper dates, to snogging on the couch while some shit tv show played, to sex—gods, the _sex_ —to sharing a room together and converting Merlin’s old room into an office for them to both work in. They watched as the rest of their friends got engaged and then married—Gwen and Lance first, Gavin and Percy last—and Merlin started to wonder if _maybe…_

When he brought up the idea to Isabelle, it had been when they were 27; one day while they had been lounging in their living room, both wearing sweats and watching some inane wildlife documentary, his legs on her lap with her hand rubbing his ankle subconsciously.

_“Hey Iz,” Merlin stated in an overly casual voice, looking down at his phone and scrolling through mindless things on his Instagram. He had gotten one at Morgan and Gavin’s insistence, and all his photos were filled with photos of Isabelle._

_He knew he had sounded too casual, as Isabelle gave a sigh and paused the tv, turning her head to look over at him. She was wearing a Cambridge hoodie and some simple black sweats, her long blonde locks pulled into a low ponytail. Despite the knowing look on her face, Merlin stopped for a moment to take it all in. This was the Isabelle very few rare people got to see; this relaxed version of her where she let down her guard and let her walls fall down. And Merlin got to see it every day of his life now, and he loved her so much he felt like his chest was being pressed down on but it was worth the feeling._

_“What question do you want to ask? And don’t tell me you weren’t; I can hear it in your voice and see it on your face, as if you’re screaming to ask me something.” Merlin had swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. It wasn’t like he was_ actually _asking her to marry him; and if he was, he had done this before! It shouldn’t be this nerve-wracking, and yet it_ was.

_“What do you think about getting married?” And Merlin knew right as he asked it that it was the wrong thing to say. He felt her tense underneath his legs and she paused from where she was rubbing his ankle._

_“And why’re you asking me about it?” Her voice had that harsh defensive tone to it, and Merlin wished he had the power to turn back time and take it all back._

_He scrambled to sit up, pulling his legs off of her lap so he could move to sit next to her rather than across the couch from her. “I’m sorry if that made you uncomfortable. It was just a random thought, I’ve just- I’ve never heard you talk about it and-” and fuck fuck fuck, he was rambling. But thankfully, Isabelle placing her hand on his knee shut him up with a quick snap of his jaw as he stared at her hand._

_“Merlin, I- I don’t want to give you the wrong idea. I love you.” And gods, would Merlin never,_ ever _get tired of hearing her say those words. “I love you so much that sometimes I ache with it. But I just- I’m sorry. I just don’t want to get married.” And Merlin understood. He completely understood, and by the waver in her voice, Merlin knew that Isabelle was_ extremely _terrified of Merlin’s reaction to that._

 _“Hey, hey.” He picked up her hand in his own, lifting his head to look at where she was looking down at the floor. He saw her jaw was clenched in that way that he knew meant she was preparing herself for getting hurt, and he leaned forward to rest his forehead against her temple. “Isabelle,” he whispered softly, trying not to smile as he felt the tell-tale shudder of arousal go down her spine. “Look at me.” He moved his head back to give her room to look up at him, the blue eyes guarded. And gods, did he hate that more than anything else in his entire life. “Trust me when I say that nothing you do could ever make me love you any less._ Nothing. _Do you understand?”_

_When he saw her nod, he noticed that there were tears in her eyes. He pressed his lips against hers in a gentle kiss, squeezing her hand gently. When he pulled back, he watched her open her mouth to say something, but then she closed it and swallowed. “I will, no matter what, love you with all my heart, Isabelle Pendragon. Doesn’t matter if there’s a certificate on the wall with our names on it, a ring on our fingers, or neither of those things. I love you, and you love me, and that’s all that matters, alright?”_

_He waited for her to say “alright” with another nod of her head before he leaned back against the couch, wrapping her slightly smaller frame into his arms and pulling her against his chest as they pressed play on the remote to continue their show._

That was the last talk of getting married, and honestly, Merlin was completely fine with it. When his coworkers teased him about it, he just told them that there was no need for it. He knew they gave him weird looks about it, but in the end, it was Isabelle’s choice; and she didn’t want to get married. Their love was enough, and Merlin felt confident in that. They both had their steady careers and lived together and loved each other, and it was enough for them both. It didn’t mean that Uther understood though, and more and more nights when Merlin came home from work, he would find Isabelle in a hoodie and sweats, her hair done up in a messy bun and this pinched look on her face. He knew Uther was pressing on her getting married, and had even started pressing about grandchildren. That was one thing they silently agreed upon: they didn’t want children. They were happy with their lives the way they were, but apparently Uther didn’t seem to get the memo.

And there was something else now that Merlin couldn’t place. He was just realizing now that it had been there for a while, but he hadn’t noticed it until after their conversation about getting married. He noticed that Isabelle had been going out less and less; when Morgan invited her shopping, she got this pained look on her face before she gave some excuse about being too busy with work to go. When their friends invited them out, Isabelle ended up declining; she fervently would not let Merlin refuse though, no matter how many times he was concerned about her. She always gave off some excuse that was related to her work or her not feeling well that night. Nobody bought it, and she knew that they knew that, but they let her because it was still her decision if she wanted to join.

She also stopped caring about herself; it reminded Merlin of midterms and finals at Cambridge, where there would be bags under her eyes and she’d be gripping the iced coffee she loathed like a lifeline, taking sips of it and then scrunching up her nose at it before taking another sip because it had the needed caffeine to keep her awake. But this time, it seemed almost worse. There were bags under her eyes, but it also looked like she was walking on glass every time someone was in the room. Her bottom lip was bitten raw to the point that Merlin could see the cuts on them from when she made them bleed. Her shoulders were hunched as she walked through the apartment, instead of the rimrod posture she always had during university. She wore loose-fitting clothes that hid everything besides the shape of her shoulders, and when they went to bed, she kept her back to Merlin. He noticed that when she got uncomfortable, she started to scratch at the inside of her wrists, so much so that he sometimes saw scabs down her arms when her sleeves were rolled up.

It felt like there was this atmosphere where there was a dam being overfilled. The cracks were starting to form in the structure, but more and more water just kept getting added. Merlin knew it was going to burst at some point, and he was terrified of when that would be.

Much to Merlin’s horror, it had happened when he wasn’t at the flat. He had gone out shopping for a bit, noticing that they were getting low on a lot of groceries.

_“Iz, I’m home!” Merlin set down the bags of groceries as he locked the door behind him. When he turned around, his stomach dropped to his feet, his chest feeling tight._

_Scattered throughout the floor of the kitchen were shards of glass. Merlin kept his shoes on as he walked towards them, hearing the crunching of glass even before officially setting foot in the kitchen. He saw the brown liquid pooled on the floor, and crouched down to see that the shards of glass were from a mug of theirs. As he took a deep breath, Merlin thanked his stars that the smell that met his nose was that of tea and not of whiskey or bourbon. He stood back up, gingerly making his way down the hall towards the office._

_He opened the door to look in there, and instead of finding Isabelle, he found books flung across the floor. Merlin knew how much Isabelle loved her books, so he quickly shut the door and made his way to their bedroom, opening the door. He saw the light coming from the bathroom and heard the spray of the shower. He rushed over there, his chest getting tighter and tighter as he thought of the worst. He couldn’t lose her, not again. Not again, not again,_ not again.

_When he saw the scene, he almost sobbed in relief as he saw her sitting in the bathroom, her eyes staring off in the distance while she had her knees pulled to her chest. She was still in hoodie and sweats, but she was alive. It took several moments for Merlin to actually take in the rest of the scene, the relief having drowned out the rest of his senses._

_The first thing he noticed was that her eyes were puffy. It was hard to tell underneath the spray of the shower, but Merlin knew those eyes. They were the first thing that had told him that Isabelle had been his Arthur. And he knew when those eyes had seen tears. The next was that her hair was let down, plastered against her head and hanging like some sort of golden mourning veil. Isabelle hated her hair being down; she always said it “got in the way”. Even at special events, she didn’t let it down. She always had her hair up in some way. And then- and then there were her hands. Gods, Merlin felt like he could be sick to his stomach as he saw the state of her hands._ There was shards of glass stuck in her knuckles.

_Her knuckles were bloodied, even under the spray of the shower, and Merlin looked around the rest of the bathroom to see what had caused the state of her knuckles. There was shards of glass all across the floor, and Merlin followed the source of it to see a shattered mirror above their sink, blood crusting in the center cracks of it. There was blood in the sink too, and glass was sprinkled on it as well. He made his way carefully towards her, setting his phone on the toilet before crouching underneath the shower spray in front of her._

_She jolted as if she had been electrocuted, pushing back against the wall of the shower with wide blue eyes that looked terrified. And gods, they didn’t look terrified of how she ended up there, she looked terrified at_ Merlin _being there. He almost let himself be sick to his stomach at that, but he swallowed it down because_ it wasn’t about him at the moment.

_“Hey, can you tell me what happened here?” His voice was soft, and he noticed that now she was shaking. She was shaking so much and gods he hated it; hated seeing her like this._

_“I couldn’t-” her breathing was getting labored and her shaking became more violent. “I saw- in the mirror I couldn’t- Merlin I_ couldn’t- _” she was now gasping her words out, her eyes wide and her pupils were dilated. Merlin recognized this as a panic attack, but he’d never seen Isabelle have one. He didn’t know what to do, and he felt utterly helpless in this moment, just like he had all those centuries ago as Arthur—the same person as his Isabelle—laid dying in his arms._

_He shushed her softly, holding his hands up in front of him by his face so that she could see all of him at the moment. He met her panicked gaze, and he then whispered, “no matter what,” in the same gingerly manner he had those months back. He watched her swallow and continued to say it, moving his hands just a bit closer each time. She seemed to be calming down the more he said it, so he kept saying it. He kept saying it when he placed it on her wrist. He kept saying it as he pulled her arms from around her knees. He kept saying it as he maneuvered her to lean her back against his chest, her breathing finally starting to steady out. He kept saying it until all that was remaining of her panic attack was the faint tremors racking through her body now and again._

_He whispered out a spell that made the first aid kit come flying out from below the sink, but he didn’t care if she saw at the moment as he slowly lifted her bloodied hand up in one hand, taking the tweezers in his other one. He started to pull out the shards wordlessly, only apologizing into her ear whenever she winced in pain. He placed the shards in the trash bin that was between the shower and the toilet, and they stayed like that for a while. When they were finished, with another whispered spell, he turned off the water._

_“Iz...what happened?” He watched her turn her head to look at him over her shoulder, and the next thing he knew, tears were streaming down her face once more. Then he got an armful of sobbing blonde pressing into him._

_“Merlin I just- I fucking hate- I can’t do this- Not like this, not like this- I’m wrong, I’m so wrong- I’m so fucked up I’m sorry-” These were the words he made out between her sobs, and he felt tears prickling in his own eyes. He didn’t know what was going on yet, but seeing the love of his life—and Merlin would admit that Arthur/Isabelle Pendragon was, in fact, the love of his entire life—hurting made Merlin feel like the scum of the earth for not noticing soon enough. For not being there during this._

_“Babe, you have to tell me what happened. I can’t read minds.” He kept his voice in that low, soothing manner. He didn’t want to accuse her of anything. After her sobs died down, Isabelle pulled herself back to look at him._

_“Merlin, fuck I just- everything is so fucking_ wrong _. I look in the mirror and it’s all wrong._ I’m _wrong. I- God, I’m such a fuck up. Everything else in my life is perfect and yet I fall apart over this one thing. I have the job of my dreams. I have the best sister in the world, as well as the best friends in the world. God, Merlin, I have you, someone who loves me so fucking much, despite all my flaws. And yet this one thing sends me down into this spiral and I just want it to stop and I want to just fade away and I want to go and disappear and just fucking_ not- _”_

_He watched her take a deep breath, and he felt fear so strong build inside him as he heard these words. He felt like he couldn’t breathe; the idea of losing her—losing Arthur—again was just too much for the moment. But he pushed it down because again, it wasn’t about him._

_So he whispered out, “what’s this one thing?”_

_“I’m- Jesus, Merlin, how the fuck am I supposed to say this? How am I supposed to frame this? That I’m this disgusting shell of a person with the wrong body and the wrong name? That I’m a fucking freak of nature? That I want to tear my skin off every fucking day I look in the mirror or go outside or take a shower or get dressed? That I’m- I’m-” and her anger directed towards herself seems to fade away into nothingness as she whispered out with a shaky voice, “that I’m trans.”_

_And then suddenly, it makes sense. It makes_ so much fucking sense. _And Merlin just kisses the temple of his wonderful Arthur before whispering, “no matter what.” And Arthur breaks in his arms once more, sagging against Merlin as if he was a marionette whose strings had been cut. They sat like that for a while, soaked to the bone on the shower floor, glass shards still on the bathroom floor, nothing being spoken._

_It’s after a while that Arthur finally goes, “I think we need to talk. Like, actually talk.” And Merlin just nods his head in agreement, kissing Arthur’s temple softly._

After that, Merlin wouldn’t say that things got easier, so to speak. Things with Arthur were never easy. But things became clearer to Merlin. They sat down and talked for hours about it—all of it, all of Arthur’s emotions, Merlin’s magic, but not their shared past, not yet—after clearing up all the glass. The first thing they decided to do was set up an appointment with Arthur’s primary care doctor about all of this. The next was deciding on the name, even if Merlin knew what name Arthur would end up choosing.

_“Arthur,” he said, voice steady, the echo of his kingly nature filling Merlin’s senses. “Arthur Pendragon. It- I don’t know why, but it just fits. I mean, my last name’s Pendragon, and your name is Merlin. It just- it makes sense.”_

The next thing they did was cut Arthur’s hair. All of it.

_“Are you sure about this Arthur? We can go do this at a barber sho-” Arthur shook his head fervently before Merlin even finished._

_“No, not- not yet. I- I don’t- I don’t want to get strange looks right now. I can’t- I couldn’t handle it. Not right now. I just- Merlin, I_ need _this.” Blue met blue as they stared at each other for a while, but then Merlin gave a sigh._

_“Alright, whatever you say.” The next thing he did was take the ponytail in hand, the scissors poised to cut right above it. “You sure?”_

_“Just do it, for fuck’s sake_ Mer _lin!”_

_Merlin quickly made do with cutting the hair, setting it on the counter. He then put down the scissors and picked up the razor, turning it on. Arthur sat perfect still as Merlin shaved off the last remaining strands of silky-smooth blond strands from his head. When they were done and Merlin switched off the razor, they just stayed there for a long while in silence._

_Then Arthur spoke up, “that’s a shit ton of hair in that ponytail. Think we could send it off to be made into a wig?” When Merlin walked around to look at Arthur’s face, he was beaming._

That next week, they had donated all of Arthur’s old clothing—besides the Cambridge hoodie—to charity and had gone shopping. One of the first things on that list was buying a binder online from a credible resource, speeding the shipping so that Arthur could try it on while they bought clothes for him. When Arthur tried on clothes, Merlin felt his mouth go dry, that familiar feeling from when he was Arthur’s manservant clothing him settling in. Especially when Arthur wore the henley and the leather jacket. The knowing smirk Arthur gave him as he bought a shit ton of henleys was not unnoticed on Merlin’s end.

Telling their friends, while nerve-wracking for Arthur, had been pretty easy in comparison to some things.

_The ring at the doorbell made Arthur jump to his feet from where he was sitting on the couch. Merlin quickly scrambled to his own feet to follow, rushing to the door before Arthur could._

_He looked back at Arthur, hand on the doorknob, as he asked, “You ready?”_

_Merlin watched as Arthur changed from this nervous man into the strong-willed and honorable king he had been before, tilting his head up and setting his jaw before giving a nod once. Merlin opened the door to get rushed past by Morgan, followed by Leo._

_“Isabelle, you have no_ idea _how worried we had been, especially considering-” Morgan’s words fell flat as she stopped and took in Arthur._

_Merlin had helped choose Arthur’s outfit earlier, picking out the comfiest jeans he had and the red henley that really showed off his arms. Merlin hadn’t let him wear the binder for most of the day, knowing that Arthur would’ve just kept wearing it long past what was healthy when their friends arrived; he only let Arthur wear it once it got within an hour of their friends coming over. And now Morgan and Leo were looking at Arthur, while Arthur stood there, caught between his pride and his fear._

_After a while of the two siblings just staring at each other, Morgan croaked out, “why didn’t you tell me anything?” before taking the two steps needed to drag Arthur into a fierce hug that Arthur immediately returned with the same level of intensity. Merlin heard Arthur’s murmur of “I didn’t know how to talk about it” before the two pulled apart._

_“Name and pronouns?” Came Leo’s voice, his question alone showing his complete support._

_“Arthur, and-” Arthur hesitated on that part. Merlin knew Arthur had never said these out loud before—only knowing this fact because Arthur had told Merlin that first night—but felt pride growing in his chest as he took a deep breath and continued with, “he, him, his.”_

_Next had been Gwen and Lance, and their support was much the same, albeit a bit more teary-eyed on Gwen’s end, much to Merlin’s amusement at Arthur’s shock._

_And when Gavin and Percy came, Gavin even asked, “want me to call you ‘prince’ instead?” with a soft voice that proved everything Arthur needed to hear. Merlin watched Arthur smirk before shaking his head._

_“I think ‘Your Highness’ fits better, don’t you?” And his smirk was met with one from Gavin._

_“More like ‘Royal Arse’,” and next thing Merlin knew, the two were tussling again, laughing and smiling._

_The rest of the night went the same way, their friends catching Arthur up on the things he missed and not letting him apologize for missing everything. They treated him the exact same, and when they accidentally slipped up with the name, they apologized and corrected it before continuing. It was the most Merlin had seen Arthur smile and laugh in months._

When Arthur finally started hormone therapy, after officially meeting with his GIC—a kind older man named Cornelius whom sounded like Gaius when Arthur described him to Merlin with a smile—the changes came slowly. Merlin remembered Arthur’s enthusiasm as his period stopped, and then laughed at Arthur’s groaning of the return of acne on his face.

_“Fuck, I need to go find some acne wash. I feel like I’m in high school again.”_

Merlin remembered Arthur freezing mid-sentence as his voice cracked, slowly bringing his hand to his throat and rubbing at it, and looking at Merlin with shock.

_“Is this how it was for you as a teenager?” When Merlin nodded his head, Arthur just shrugged and continued talking as if nothing had happened._

Merlin couldn’t help but drool just slightly when Arthur’s muscles started to become more defined through the testosterone. And that was _saying_ something, because Arthur already _was_ fit, years of rugby, football, and fencing already having given Arthur an athlete’s body. And considering that Arthur worked out regularly already, Merlin was just getting more and more of a show. And the cheeky bastard _knew_ how much Merlin liked it, if the smirk he gave Merlin when he caught Merlin staring at him when he did pushups was anything to go by.

When Arthur’s hair grew back, Merlin had toyed with it while watching some movie that wasn’t important. It had grown long enough to run his fingers through, but not long enough that it went past Arthur’s ears.

_“You know, I like it this length.” Arthur turned his head to look at where Merlin was sitting, his torso pressed a fourth of the way into the cushions as his long legs were sprawled over Arthur. The golden strands were between long pale fingers, and Merlin looked away from them to see a golden eyebrow raised at him._

_“Oh? You_ do _now?” And the way Arthur’s voice held onto that snarky tone that always made Merlin feel this pull in his gut caused Merlin’s mouth to go dry. He gave a nod, the strands falling from his fingers as they stilled. Arthur gave a smug grin at Merlin, turning his body so that he was between Merlin’s legs._

_“Well then,” he started, dragging his fingers up and down Merlin’s right calf slowly—maddeningly—not even looking up at him. “I’m guessing if you like it so much, we should keep it this way, huh?” He finally looked up at Merlin, his pupils dilated a bit, causing the pull in his gut to turn into a sharp heat as he looked over Merlin with those piercing blue eyes._

_He was talking so casually about his hair, but the way he was letting his fingers travel up the inside of Merlin’s thigh now was making all thought process shut down on Merlin’s end. He leaned his head forward a bit, hunching over so that his face was near Merlin’s crotch. Merlin’s dick gave a twitch in his now too-tight jeans, and Arthur’s face was the_ definition _of smugness, as he leaned closer; close enough for Merlin to feel the heat from his breath on him through his jeans._

_Merlin’s hands were digging into the couch cushions, trying to keep himself from bucking his hips upwards to get some sort of friction against his dick. Arthur noticed how much Merlin was restraining himself, because his shit-eating grin just grew wider as he finally placed his mouth over the bulge in Merlin’s jeans._

_“Holy fucking shit,” Merlin breathed out, tilting his head backwards and closing his eyes as Arthur mouthed at him for a good 10 seconds._

_When Arthur pulled back, a whimper tore itself from Merlin’s throat. He lifted his head back up to look back at Arthur, who moved one of his hands that was resting on Merlin’s thigh to where Merlin had a lifeline grip on the couch. He slowly pried Merlin’s fingers from their grip before pressing a long pale finger into his plush pink mouth, causing a moan to come from Merlin’s chest. Arthur sucked on it for a moment before letting it go, letting it fall directly onto Merlin’s crotch._

_“Well, I guess there can be some use for my hair being this length. Such as possibly something to grip onto, don’t you think?”_

Needless to say, Merlin had _no_ qualms whatsoever about the elevated libido on Arthur’s end. And he thoroughly enjoyed the new addition of facial hair, especially when it was rubbing between his thighs. And Merlin even got Arthur to admit that maybe keeping it the length it was was ideal.

One of the hardest things for Arthur—besides the extreme dysphoria he got on some days where it made it hard for him to get out of bed—was getting everything settled in at his work. To say that several of his coworkers had responded pleasantly would be a lie. Merlin knew Arthur’s frustration when he arrived home one day.

_It was one of those rare days that Merlin got off before Arthur. There was takeout on the table in the kitchen, as Arthur had texted Merlin earlier that day to get some. So Merlin was there when Arthur slammed the door shut behind him. Merlin sat up from where he had been lounging on the couch._

_“What happened?” Arthur still had his back turned to Merlin as he removed his shoes, but Merlin could see the tension in Arthur’s muscles._

_“Dickhead coworkers,” Arthur barked out, the way he used to when something went wrong in a plan._

_Merlin took a deep breath, understanding that Arthur was going to need to vent to him about this. So he sat up straighter, and when Arthur turned around, he simply patted the spot next to him on the couch. “Food can wait. Tell me about your day first.”_

_He felt a pleasant warmness settle through his system as he saw some of that tension release from Arthur’s shoulders, his pinched expression softening a bit. Merlin watched Arthur make his way to the couch before settling down next to Merlin, resting his head on the warlock’s shoulder._

_“It’s just- since I finally got all my files in order for the government, with my legal name change and all that, I went into work to submit my papers again. And Merlin, I know it’s illegal to be downright discriminatory, but bloody fuck, didn’t stop some people from the looks. For fuck’s sake, you’d think a professional place with historical experts on this stuff would understand someone being trans, but I guess the fucking bigots still manage to sink their claws into the world of knowledge.”_

_“Did…” Merlin felt almost angry as he heard Arthur speak vaguely about what had happened at work. “Did anyone say anything?”_

_A scoff came from his shoulder before Arthur responded, “oh yeah, because they’re going to come out at work and immediately start spewing hateful things that will definitely get them fired. No no, nothing so obvious. It was just-” Merlin felt more than heard the shakiness of Arthur’s inhale. “The looks, Merlin. There were so many hateful looks. And the fucking whispering. Fuck, I hate the whispering the most. Like, the occasionally purposeful misgendering is fucking terrible and it makes me feel sick every time I hear it, but it’s just- the tension of not knowing what they’re saying. They’ve been whispering rumors about me for months, obviously, since it’s been kind of obvious what’s going on, but now there’s an official submission about it all and I know I’m going to receive some anonymous messages that will be rather- well, to put it bluntly, rather hateful and prejudiced.”_

_“Arthur, if you ever feel like-”_

_“Merlin, stop. If I feel like I’m actually under threat, I will file a report as well as tell you. But,” and Merlin heard the smile in Arthur’s voice. “I think most of them are too afraid to say anything directly to my face. I mean, most of my coworkers are...and I don’t mean to sound rude, considering you’re one of my favorite people are you’re like this...pretty nerdy. Such as in the stereotypical sense. Like, you have more muscle than they do, and Merlin. You’re a fucking pole.”_

_“You fucking clotpole,” Merlin mumbled as he rested his head on top of Arthur’s with a grin. “So, feel better?”_

_Arthur nodded his head. “Yeah, just- needed to get it all out. Now, you warm up the food while I go take my binder off. My ribs are starting to ache a bit.” Arthur sat up before pushing himself to his feet. He stretched his arms upwards, before letting them fall to his side._

_Merlin just watched, taking everything about Arthur in. Gods, he loved Arthur more than anything he had ever loved. When Arthur looked down at him, where he was still sitting on the couch, Merlin smiled. His smile was met with a soft fond one from Arthur. Arthur then bent down and Merlin stretched upwards, their lips coming together in a soft kiss. Arthur then stood straight once more._

_“Warm up the food,” he called out as he walked down the hallway to their room._

And then, there were the parts that Merlin wished Arthur never had to go through. The moments that Merlin knew left Arthur with unwanted scars on the inside, from pain he should never have to experience.

 _Merlin came home one day after work to find Arthur just sitting at the table, staring heavily at the cellphone in his hands. Merlin let his stuff fall onto the floor before making his way to Arthur. He slowly placed his hand on Arthur’s shoulder, his thumb resting on the nape of Arthur’s neck. As he looked over his boyfriend’s shoulder, he saw the contact that was pulled up on the screen:_ “Father - Ulysses Pendragon”. _It was written exactly as that, and Merlin felt the sting of sympathy from ages back when, knowing how distant Uther had always been._

_“Jesus Merlin,” Arthur whispered, not even looking up from the phone. “How am I going to tell him this? I- In his mind, I was always ‘Daddy’s Little Girl’.” He let the phone clatter backwards onto the table, leaning back into the chair and Merlin’s touch. He dragged a hand down his face._

_“Merlin, do you know what happened when I came out as bi to him in high school?” He looked up over his shoulder at Merlin, who then shook his head. “He kicked me out. Mind you, it was only for a week, but just…” Arthur gave a sigh, closing his eyes as if he could block out the painful memory. “Luckily for me, Gwen and her family let me stay at her place for the time. But Merlin, if it wasn’t for Morgan arguing with him over the entire week, I would’ve been disowned.”_

_He tilted his head back and looked up at Merlin, who had now moved behind him so his head was now resting against Merlin’s abdomen. “I...I know I don’t talk much about...why I pulled away before my whole episode. It’s just- Merlin, I was raised in his household. I grew up thinking that the whole LGBT+ community was going to all burn in Hell. When I figured out I was bi, I was so fucking distraught. I- I kind of had an episode back then as well, but not as harmful results.” When Merlin raised an eyebrow in question, Arthur gave another sigh, letting his left hand fall onto his shoulder on top of Merlin’s._

_“Morgan saw me punch a hole in the wall of my room and then dragged me to my bed where I just broke down. I...while I was given some leeway with my emotions because I was a ‘girl’,” Merlin watched Arthur do air-quotes around the word before continuing, “it still wasn’t a very nurturing place emotionally. I didn’t feel like I could talk about things like my emotions in the house, let alone with my Father. I could barely gather up the nerve to tell him in person about being bi. I can’t- I can’t do that with this.”_

_Merlin crouched down so the his face was hovering over Arthur’s now. “You know what his response is going to be...don’t you?” Arthur gave a shaky breath before nodding his head. “Then just, tell him and be done with it. Arthur, if his presence is going to cause so much turmoil I- I hate to say it, but just let him go. I know he’s family but- Arthur, we choose our own families. We choose our friends, and we consider them brothers and sisters. When people have children, those children see their parents’ friends as aunts and uncles. I know that letting go of family is hard. It’s so fucking hard, Arthur, and I wish, I_ wish _you didn’t have to deal with this pain. You deserve to have a father who loves and accepts you for who you truly are. But at the same time, you don’t need someone who will just bring toxic thoughts to the forefront of your mind.”_

After that, it was a long while before Arthur actually sent the message that ended with cutting his connection with his father.

_‘Father, I’m going to start off with saying that this is goodbye. I wish it didn’t have to be this way. I’ll always love you, but your words and beliefs truly gave me toxic mentality that came close to destroying my happiness. And so with what I have to say, I know for sure it will definitely result in us parting ways. I’m a trans man. I am not your daughter. My name is Arthur Pendragon, and I wear that name with pride. It is who I am, and you will not, and cannot, change that. It doesn’t matter whatever you say after this message, for I will not let it affect my thoughts. So, that is what I needed to tell you.”_

And with that, Uther’s number was blocked and deleted from Arthur’s phone, the same following with Uther’s other means of contact. And it was hard for a while. There were days where Arthur was dealing with severe dysphoria, and would snap at Merlin. There were days where Merlin would get fed up with everything and hide out in the office. But they always came back, and always, _always_ apologized to each other.

And then, things started getting better. The misgendering at work became an all-time low; in fact, the people who did _purposely_ misgender Arthur at the beginning that had still kept at it ended up getting told off by fellow coworkers who even threatened to file reports about them. Arthur didn’t tell Merlin any other details, but judging by the way Arthur had been so proud of himself, Merlin guessed that it was due to Arthur’s work ethic and willingness to help others with their own works. And then, as it had been over a year of Arthur’s socialization as himself, came the discussion of surgeries he could get. Arthur opted first and foremost for top surgery. With more discussion and planning, the surgery came and went with success. The hard part was making sure Arthur didn’t cause any problems in the healing process.

 _Merlin woke up one morning as he heard a commotion in the kitchen. It didn’t sound like anything was breaking or the likes; just the sound of plates clinking together as they were moved around and the tinkling of silverware against glass. But, nonetheless, the sound was loud enough to wake him up. He groggily rubbed at his eyes, running a hand through his hair—which he had let grow longer now in the 21st century, meaning it was sticking all over the place already—and turn to look over to where Arthur was. Or, where Arthur_ usually _was._

 _It was only about two weeks after his surgery, and the surgeon and nurses had told them both to make sure Arthur didn’t strain himself. And Merlin knew for_ sure _that the pans were_ below _easy reaching distance, meaning Arthur had to move around too much._

_“That fucking clotpole,” Merlin hissed out in worry, throwing the cover and sheets off his legs quickly and making his way into the kitchen in just his boxers._

_There he found Arthur, grinning like a madman as he finished cooking breakfast. “Morning Merlin!” He finished frying the eggs and turned off the stove before making his way to Merlin and kissing his temple. “You look incredibly dimwitted yet absolutely adorable with your hair in a mess and in just your pants.”_

_“Arthur, what the fuck are you doing going about and cooking! I know those plates are above elbow level—which, might I remind you, you’re not allowed to extend your arm past. Also, the pans are below the counter tops! Meaning you crouched down!” Merlin knew he was sounding a bit like a nagging housewife, he_ was _concerned._

 _However, Arthur just started to chuckle, shaking his head fondly at Merlin’s nagging. “Merlin, first off, you’re sounding like a mother hen. Second, I’m not an idiot, despite what you may have come to believe. To reach the plates for breakfast and mugs for tea, I used the stepping stool we had bought before the surgery specifically for this purpose. As for the pans, There is such a thing as kneeling down onto the floor,_ Mer _lin.”_

_Merlin’s face was now flushed with embarrassment at realizing that Arthur had been taking it easy; that Merlin was just worrying for nothing. But when Arthur kissed Merlin once more, this time on the lips, that embarrassment faded away to a warm and content feeling spreading from his chest and reaching down to his toes, out to his fingers, and up to his ear._

Life was good. Merlin really could not complain. Arthur healed nicely from surgery with no complications, and now was back to his regular life. Complete with doing his workouts, but now Merlin got the added bonus of a shirtless Arthur. And one could say that Arthur may or may not ever really finish his routine workout; but Arthur didn’t seem to complain, as the two always found another suitable kind of workout to help keep up.

Merlin and Arthur visited Gwen in the hospital after she and Lance had their first baby—a daughter named Elena. And although the two men knew they didn’t want any children, there was still something so awe-inspiring about holding such new life in their arms. If Arthur got teary-eyed as Gwen and Lance named Arthur the godfather, nobody commented on it. Things were going perfectly in all their lives, and Merlin couldn’t have asked for more. Even if Arthur never found out about their shared history, Merlin couldn’t really care less. He had Arthur here and now, and he fell asleep every night in the blond’s arms and woke up every morning to see those blues eyes. It was all Merlin had wished for for centuries.

So it came a bit of a surprise one day when Arthur came home extremely late from work, looking absolutely manic.

_The door of the flat slammed open, causing Merlin to jump to his feet; the book he had been reading now sprawled open on the floor. The first thing Merlin noticed was that Arthur’s hair was sticking up all over the place, as if he had been running his fingers through it frantically. Then he saw Arthur’s face, blue eyes wide and manic as they darted all along the decorum of the flat before landing on Merlin. When they did, it was like the blond zeroed in on Merlin, causing a rush of something to shoot through Merlin._

_“Arthur…?” he asked hesitantly, not knowing exactly what was going on. “Are you alright? You’re rather late.”_

_At his question, Arthur seemed to straighten up his posture. It was then that Merlin noticed that Arthur’s clothes were in disarray, wrinkles on the thighs of his work trousers and his shirt untucked and his tie undone around his neck. Arthur then strutted towards Merlin with purpose. Merlin started to make his way backwards until his back hit the wall, where Arthur was now caging him in._

_“Arthur, you haven’t answered my question.” Merlin truly didn’t know what the_ fuck _was going on at the moment, and he had to admit that Arthur was acting extremely strange at the moment._

_The atmosphere shifted when Arthur then leaned down to press his face into the crook of Merlin’s neck, taking a deep shaky breath. Merlin’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion before he wrapped his arms around Arthur’s frame, just letting Arthur inhale and exhale shaky breaths. After a while, Merlin felt soft kisses being pressed against his neck. He heard Arthur’s voice murmuring something, but it was muffled into Merlin’s neck._

_“Arthur, love, you’re going to have to speak up. I can’t hear you.” Arthur froze from the kisses and the litany of whatever he had been saying to pull back to meet Merlin’s gaze._

_Those blue eyes searched Merlin’s face for a long time, and when Merlin’s eyes met his, they seemed clearer with something. What that something was, Merlin didn’t know._

_“Merlin, I’m so sorry,” he stated. However, there was no shame in his voice as if he had cheated on Merlin._

_It sounded more like he was apologizing for something he had done to piss Merlin off. But that didn’t make sense, since Merlin hadn’t been truly pissed off with Arthur for months. Occasionally annoyed or irritated? Absolutely. Pissed off? Nope._

_“Arthur, I have no buggering idea what the bloody fuck you’re going on about. There’s no need to apologize to me, unless you’re repenting for something you’re hiding like you broke my favorite tea mug.”_

_“Don’t be daft,_ Mer _lin.” Arthur raised an eyebrow in question as he continued. “I left you alone for centuries, and you’re saying I have nothing to be sorry about?”_

 _A broken gasp tore from Merlin’s throat at that, feeling the sob start to build in the back of his throat. He_ couldn’t _be this lucky—this fortunate—to have Arthur remember. Merlin had been content with Arthur never remembering, because having Arthur was just enough. But this? This was like his wildest dreams had come true: he had Arthur in his life, alive and happy and loving him, and he remembered._

_“I- You- What- When- How?” The last word was breathed out, barely a whisper past the tightness in his throat._

_“Well, today at work, I was looking over the Arthurian legends. Because, well, King Arthur is described to be the mightiest king Great Britain is to have ever had. And since my literal degree was in Politics within History, I decided to delve deeper into the name behind the myths. And the more I delved into it, the more things I found to be wrong. The first being that Mordred was the child of Morgana and Arthur; I remember almost feeling sick to my stomach at that. And the relationship between Merlin and Arthur had just been all wrong. And I was getting this major headache, and I didn’t know why._

_“So I went to the loo, splashed some water on my face, looking up in the mirror, and was hit with an onslaught of memories. Needless to say, I will most likely have a bruise on my back either later tonight or by tomorrow morning. And I knew in my bones that you, Merlin, were_ my _Merlin. That first day we met, when our hands touched, I felt it too. I just hadn’t known then. Yet you did. You had been waiting and waiting for me, and fuck, Merlin.”_

 _Arthur paused his explanation to drag his knuckles gently over Merlin’s cheek, causing the warlock to suck in a ragged breath. “I’m_ so fucking sorry _you were alone for so long. But you won’t have to be. Ever again. No more.” Arthur leaned forward to press his lips against Merlin’s in a rather desperate kiss, to which Merlin reciprocated with a muffled sob, pulling Arthur close to his chest._

 _It had been_ so _long. And Merlin had just missed this. Missed Arthur. And now he had him back, fully and completely. The kiss was that of a promise, desperation and apologies combined into one. When the two finally pulled away, there was a gleam in Arthur’s blue eyes._

_“Let’s get married,” he breathed out, causing Merlin’s eyes to go from half-lidded in contentment to wide in shock._

_“What?!” Arthur gave a chuckle, leaning his forehead against Merlin’s._

_“Let’s get married, Merlin.”_

_“But- I thought- You said…?”_

_“I had said it because things were starting to get fucked up in my mind. The thought of getting married while-” Arthur shook his head. “It sounded like one of the levels of my own personal hell. But Merlin now- Merlin, things are_ different. _I remember. I know who I am, truly, down to my core. And Merlin, I know that I have_ never _loved anyone as much or as fiercely as I love you. And I want to have all our friends to see me declare it boldly.”_

 _Arthur pressed another kiss against Merlin’s lips, leaving him breathless and weak at the knees. When Arthur pulled back, his grin was wide and his eyes alight. “So,” he breathed out. “What do you say,_ Mer _lin? Will you marry me?”_

_Merlin gave out a breathy, almost maniac laugh at that. “You fucking clotpole. Of course I’ll marry you.”_

**Author's Note:**

> Again, my dysphoria is not as severe as Arthur's is in this story. If I have gotten anything wrong, please tell me! I'm American, so I definitely do not know how the health system or laws about discrimination work in the UK, but I did look it up online on official resources (like nhs.uk and gov.uk). Also, since I am American, I have ZERO clue how university is like in Cambridge, I'm just going off my own experience at UC Davis, so if anyone would like to correct me on that, or brit-pick my words, I would definitely be grateful!  
> But all-in-all, I really hoped you liked this story. Please leave me comments and kudos—especially comments—because I live off of validation from you guys!  
> (Oh, and if you think you have ideas on who "Bill" and "Oscar" are, PLEASE tell me, I would love to read what you guys think!)
> 
> Update: Guys, literally, HOLY SHIT! Over 100 kudos in only a little over TWO MONTHS!!!! I'm not even joking how excited I was to see that! Just, holy SHIT!!! It genuinely means so much to me, so thank you ALL for those of you who have left kudos! And to those who have left comments, thank you as well! Each comment always brings a smile to my face! So really, just thank you all SO much!!!


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